Stubborn
by super em
Summary: Something is wrong with Tony, but he'll never admit it. My first fanfiction. Chapter 10 is up! Now complete. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only wish I owned these characters...**

**Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a fanfiction, so please tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is most welcome, but please be kind. I know the whole Tony-is-sick storyline is nothing new, I just wanted to add my flavour to the mix. **

**Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!**

**super-em**

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**Chapter One**

"I want your reports on my desk in exactly one hour." Gibbs said, striding out of the elevator, coffee cup in hand.

"But it's 22:00, boss," Tony moaned as he followed Gibbs out of the elevator. McGee and Ziva rushed to their desks to begin typing.

"I have a watch, DiNozzo. It wasn't a request." Gibbs raised his eyebrows at his senior field agent. DiNozzo was soaked to the skin, trying to hide his shivering. The team had just finished investigating the suspicious death of a petty officer in a local park. Palmer had lost control of the gurney walking down the hill to the body, accidentally sending Tony tumbling down to the bottom of the snowy hill. Refusing to change into one of the unflattering NCIS jumpsuits, Tony had stubbornly remained in his soggy clothes.

Gibbs shook his head. _Kid's gonna give himself pneumonia_.

"DiNozzo! Go put some-"

"Special Agent Gibbs."

"What?" Gibbs spun around, annoyed at being interrupted. He was hoping to get home sometime before midnight. He had a boat to build.

"I need you to complete the evaluations, Jethro." Director Sheppard stood at the platform on the stairs, leaning on the railing.

"Not now, Jen." Gibbs grumbled.

"Yes now, Gibbs. You've been putting them off for the last month. They are due tomorrow. No more delays. My office, now."

Cursing under his breath, Gibbs stormed up to the office. He slammed the door on the way in, startling the secretary.

DiNozzo leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "You gotta give it to the director. She can piss off Gibbs like no one else."

"Except you, Tony."

"Shut up, probie." Tony snapped, turning to his computer screen. A ripple of shivers ran through his body as Tony realized how cold he really was.

"Tony, for hell's sake, just put some dry clothes on." Ziva said from across the bullpen.

"Firstly, its heaven's sake, not hell. And secondly, I have to get this report typed. And we've only got –" Tony looked at his watch. "48 minutes to get this done."

"Well maybe you'd find it a lot easier if you could type with more than two fingers"

"Well maybe I'd find it a lot easier if you didn't keep interrupting me, Zee-vah." Tony retorted, turning back to his screen. He was typing very slowly, even by his standards. "Stupid fingers," He muttered, trying to shake the warmth back into his stiff fingers. Maybe wearing snow soaked clothing for 4+ hours wasn't his greatest idea.

McGee opened his mouth as if to say something, but a look from Tony was enough to close it again.

"Made me lose my place, Ziva." He grumbled.

"But Tony, how can you lose your place when you haven't written anything?" Ziva teased.

Tony gave her the same look he gave McGee, turning back to his screen without a word.

Gibbs finally escaped from the Director's office, over an hour after he had been dragged in there.

"Paperwork." He muttered, taking the stairs two at a time. As if going through 6 months of paperwork wasn't enough, Jen had only had instant coffee in her office. He might be a coffee addict, but even he had standards.

"Not real coffee." Making sure he was out of the Director's eyeshot, he tipped the full mug of coffee into a potted plant. The plant would probably be dead tomorrow.

He stopped when he came to the bullpen. It was empty. There were three reports sitting on his desk, one considerably thinner than the others. Looking at his watch, Gibbs saw it was almost 11:30. Screw the rest of the paperwork. Time to go home.

OOOOO

Tony slouched against the wall of the elevator. He ran his fingers through his hair, as if it could somehow make his headache disappear. Ziva stood at the front of the elevator, headphones in ears. Tony wondered what sort of music she listened to. He felt the pressure building in his nose as he tried to suppress a sneeze. He failed. The sound of the sneeze seemed to echo in the elevator. Ziva turned, raising her eyebrows.

"That is disgusting Tony." She handed him a tissue, stepping out as the elevator doors opened. Tony followed her out, wiping his nose. Sitting down at his desk he tossed the crumpled tissue into the bin. He missed, but couldn't be bothered to pick it up. McGee, already at his desk, scrunched up his nose.

Tony was rewarded with a swat on the back of the head.

"Hey boss," he said with a groan. Not helping his aching head.

"DiNozzo, you ever heard of personal hygiene? Or, for that matter, spell-check?" Gibbs waved Tony's report in front of his face.

"Actually boss, I'm more surprised that you actually know what spell check is."

"Are you trying to annoy me DiNozzo?"

"Don't need to try-Aaachooo!" Tony sneezed everywhere. Gibbs shook his head, tossing the report on Tony's desk.

"Fix it, DiNozzo."

Gibbs walked off in search of more coffee. Ziva tossed a pack of tissues across, hitting Tony on the head.

"I will kill you if you make me sick, Tony."

"I'm not sick, Ziva. It's just… allergies." Although he wasn't entirely sure Ziva had been joking. Tony dug through his desk drawer in search of some asprin. His head was starting to throb. He just found some when Gibbs returned.

"Abby's got something on our vic."

OOOOO

The four agents stepped out of the elevator, walking into Abby's lab. Her stereo was turned up extra loud, causing the trays of test tubes to rattle on the desk. Tony grimaced, leaning back on the bench. Gibbs slowly turned the music down. Abby spun around.

"Hey, I was listening to that."

"You got something Abs?" Gibbs asked, handing her the customary Caff-Pow.

"You know it, fearless leader." She took a long sip from the straw, spinning on her chair to type something on the keyboard. A picture appeared on the screen.

"Ducky found a fingerprint on the victim's thigh. He also found trace amounts of semen on the body."

Gibbs exhaled heavily. She was raped.

"Both are a match to this guy. Bob Sanders."

"Got an address, Abs?"

"Oh Gibbs, do you really need to ask? I've already sent it to your PDA."

"Good job Ab-" He was interrupted by Tony coughing from the back of the room. Gibbs raised his eyebrows, waiting for Tony to finish, but Tony was doubled over. His face was red and he was coughing uncontrollably. Abby rushed over.

"Tony! He needs something to drink. Here-" She held out her liquid-caffeine drink. Tony held out his hand to say no, finally stopping coughing. His face returned to its normal colour and he slowly stood up.

"You right there DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes boss. Just allergies." Tony said, clearing his throat.

"Fine. You and Ziva are going to check out this address. McGee, I want to know everything possible about this guy." Gibbs pointed to the picture on the screen.

Tony, Ziva and McGee left.

"Gibbs, I may not have a medical degree but that was so not allergies. Tony couldn't breathe."

"Tony can take care of himself." Gibbs' replied, turning and leaving abruptly.

Abby shook her head. She wasn't so sure.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there. I was so delighted with the response I got from the first chapter, so here is an update. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, you have no idea how awesome it is for me to see people are reading let alone enjoying my little story. I know this story is very slow moving -this chapter is basically about Tony throwing up [nothing graphic, dont worry :P, so I hope you don't get bored. Please review, any advice you can give me is welcomed with open arms (I've scrapped my plans for any Tabby romance, but I havent decided if anything else is on the cards) :) Also, I realize that NCIS is set in the USA, but I'm an Aussie, so I've used the metric system in this chapter. Hope you don't mind... **

**Enjoy, thanks for reading!**

**Super-em**

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**Chapter Two**

"ZIVA! This is America! I don't know what its like in Israel, but we have road rules here. Such as speed limits." Tony held on for dear life as the sedan drifted around on a corner, ending up in the wrong lane. An oncoming car screeched to a halt as Ziva weaved in and out of the traffic.

"Are you trying to make me throw up? Because you've done it before. You don't need to prove yourself again."

Ziva glanced over at Tony. He was looking decidedly green, a layer of perspiration covering his forehead.

"So this nausea is a symptom of you _allergies_, yes?" She asked, dodging a pedestrian.

"No, this nausea is a symptom of your driving, Ziva." Tony said, trying to concentrate on keeping his lunch down. It was getting harder and harder to do. Although, he thought, he'd skipped lunch. And breakfast for that matter. Shaking his head, Tony focused on the road. Ziva could make anyone sick, breakfast or no breakfast. Finally the car skidded to a halt.

"We are here." Ziva declared, getting out of the car with a satisfied smile.

Tony finally got up, holding onto the car roof for support. He was feeling a bit dizzy. No wonder really, after that drive.

Ziva led the way, knocking on the door of the house. No answer.

"Federal agents!" She yelled, knocking louder. Frustrated, she bent over, swiftly picking the lock.

"Ziva, we need a warrant for that," Tony called, realizing what she was doing. But it was too late. The door swung open. Ziva gave him a smug smile.

"The door is open now. Shall we?"

"Fine." Tony followed her in as they cleared the house. There was nobody there. Judging by the thick layer of dust that coated absolutely everything in the house, it had been that way for a long time. He started coughing again, bending over to catch his breath. _Must be the dust_, he thought, walking outside to get some fresh air.

"Nothing here. I'll call Gibbs." Tony called back, hitting the speed dial on his phone as Ziva examined the pile of mail at the door.

"Hey boss. We got nothing. Yes bos-" Tony flipped the phone shut as Gibbs hung up on him. Gibbs knew nothing about phone etiquette.

"Gibbs says if there's nothing, we might as well come back to the Navy yard. And I'm driving." Tony snatched the keys out of Ziva's hand as they left.

OOOOO

_Tony drives so slowly_, Ziva thought, sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Tony glanced at the speedometer. 110km. He was speeding. Bored, Ziva turned on the radio, flipping through the stations until she found something that wasn't news, talkback radio or country music.

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat as another wave of nausea hit him. _Should've stayed in bed today._

Ziva closed her eyes, her fingers tapping to the beat of the store as she felt herself dozing off. Suddenly the car swerved to the right, braking sharply to a stop. Ziva opened her eyes quickly. Tony was gone. She looked outside. The car door had been flung open and Tony was leaned over a bush on the side of the road, retching violently. Ziva jumped out, coming to stand beside him as he continued to throw up. Finally it finished. Tony braced himself with his hand on a tree as he tried to catch his breath.

"Do not tell me this is just your allergies." Ziva said, frowning with concern.

Tony glanced over at her, his face pale and sweaty. He opened his mouth to say something, but the nausea returned, stronger than ever and he turned back, retching into the bush. Ziva jogged back to the car, returning with a bottle of water.

"Here." She handed it to Tony, who rinsed out his mouth.

"Are you done?" She asked, as politely as possible.

Tony gave her a smile, which was more of a grimace. "Sure hope so. I didn't realise it was possible to throw up that much."

Ziva helped him back to the car, sitting him in the passenger seat and loosening his tie.

"Drive slowly," He begged, closing his eyes.

Ziva obliged.

"Ziva? Slowly. I don't know how much Gibbs would appreciate me spoling the nice interior of this car."

"What? 80 is slow!"

Tony chuckled, but stopped as the green colour returned to his face.

"Ziva-?"

She'd already pulled the car over, and he opened the door, throwing up onto the grass. Leaning back on the headrest, he breathed deeply.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He muttered, removing his tie altogether. Ziva leant over, wiping the sweat of his forehead with a tissue.

"Its okay Tony. We're almost there. And for you, I will drive extra-slowly."

Exhaling, Tony shut the door of the car and Ziva took off again, roaring down the highway. _60km is very slow_, she thought.

OOOOO

Finally, after one more emergency stop, the familiar gates of the Navy Yard came into view. Ziva parked the car, helping Tony out. They stood in the lift, on the way up to the third floor.

"Ziva," Tony said, his voice a little weaker than usual. "Don't tell Gibbs about this." He leaned back, resting his head on the cool metal wall. The headache had magnified, no doubt due to the intense vomiting.

Ziva frowned, surveying her partner. Slumped against the wall, his face was pale and clammy, his skin covered in cold sweat. His tie was missing and his top button was undone, his clothes rumpled and his hair stood up in random clumps. It didn't matter whether or not she told Gibbs. Anybody with eyes could see that he was not well.

The doors opened and she led the way out, followed somewhat slowly by Tony, who sat down immediately. Gibbs was at his desk, reading a file.

"Took you long enough." He didn't look up from the file.

Ziva opened her mouth to say something, but caught the warning look from Tony.

"Tony are you alright? You don't look so good," McGee said from his desk.

"Never better, McGeek." Tony said, sitting up in his chair. He scrunched his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to suppress the tickle in his throat. He burst into a bout of coughing that burned his lungs,

Gibbs finally looked up. He saw DiNozzo, sweating profusely, unusually pale, hunched over gasping for breath.

"Get up DiNozzo." He ordered curtly.

"We're going to see Ducky."

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**A/N: just did some quick conversions (hopefully right) if you're wondering:**

**110km/hr 68 mph  
80km/hr 50 mph  
60km/hr 37mph**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Ah Gibbs, you're too early. I haven't yet completed the autopsy of our petty officer. I can, however, tell you the COD." Ducky said, strolling out of his office as he heard the sliding doors of the elevator open. _Gibbs always was too impatient_, Ducky thought, but stopped in his tracks as the party entered the room.

"Oh, my, Gibbs, what has happened?"

Leaning heavily on Ziva and dripping with sweat, Tony followed Gibbs into autopsy.

"Boss, I'm fine!" Tony protested weakly, but he couldn't even convince himself. His voice was rough and ragged from the coughing and he couldn't stand straight.

The smell of the chemical agents was suddenly overbearing to Tony's senses and, gagging, he ran over to the sink.

"He was coughing and sneezing all morning. But on the way back from our suspect's house, he started throwing up uncontrollably." Ziva reported.

"I see. And have you eaten anything unusual lately?" Ducky asked, placing his hand on Tony's forehead.

"I haven't eaten anything all day."

"You know, Duck, Tony fell in the snow yesterday. He refused to change his clothes, so he was sitting around in wet clothes all night." Gibbs said, mentally slapping himself for not making DiNozzo get changed.

Ducky shook his head. "Anthony, I cannot stress how important it is that you take care of yourself, especially when it comes to your lungs. We still don't know the full extent of the damage the Y-Pestis caused. It is better to take the precautions than deal with the consequences. You know, I do recall a time in India, when I was traveling with a young colleague of mine. Charming fellow, but-"

"Ducky, what is wrong with Tony?" Ziva interrupted, noticing that Tony was looking queasy again.

"Ah yes, of course. Sit down, my boy."

Tony shivered on the cold metal table. He felt his heart thudding in his chest, alternating with the pounding in his head. His eyes closed, he could feel the thermometer in his ear and the pressure cuff Ducky was wrapping around his bicep.

"Oh dear, you have quite a temperature Tony. Blood pressure is a little higher than it should be, but considering your diet, I suppose it is acceptable. Now tell me, apart from the vomiting, coughing and sneezing, are you experiencing any other symptoms?"

"Headache." Tony murmured, not opening his eyes. "Dizziness. Cold."

"Ah. Well to know for sure, we really should take you to a hospital."

Tony shook his head violently, sending vibrations of pain through his body.

"But," Ducky continued, "considering your adverseness to hospital visits, since they have become quite frequent in your time at NCIS, I think we will just take a blood sample and have Abigail run some tests."

Tony nodded, still shivering. "Apart from that, Gibbs, what I can tell you is that I believe Tony has the stomach flu, or a 24 hour bug which was not helped by his exposure to the cold or by his compromised immune system. At any rate, the most we can do is make sure he rests, and this may be cured by a good night's sleep."

"Thanks Duck. Ya hear that DiNozzo? You get the day off. But I still expect that report to be fixed up and on my desk the moment you get better." Gibbs said with just a hint of affection in his voice.

"Yy-yes Gi-bbs" Tony said, leaning over as Ducky drew the blood, his teeth still chattering.

OOOOO

"Gibbs! Palmer just delivered me a vial of Tony's blood and said Ducky wanted it tested for anything unusual! What the heck is going on?"

Abby flew out of the lift and into the parking garage where Gibbs had just helped Tony into the car.

"Its okay, Abs." Gibbs said, returning her hug. "Tony's not feeling so good, and Ducky's just making sure."

"Tony's sick? Why doesn't anyone ever tell me anything!"

Abby swooped over to the open car door where Tony was sitting.

"Oh my god, Tony! What happened? Are you okay? Do you need a hug?"

"S'nothing, Abs." Tony whispered. "I'll be fine. And I can't hug you, you might get sick."

"He's right, Abby. Ducky thinks it might be a bug, and we can't afford to have two sick team members." Gibbs said, walking over to the driver's side.

"But what if you get it, Gibbs? What will we do without Tony and our fearless leader?" Abby was suddenly worried.

Gibbs snorted. "I never get sick, Abs, you should know that. And besides that, Tony wouldn't dare give me his germs. He knows how much that would piss me off."

Tony chuckled inside the car at the mental image of a sneezing Gibbs head-slapping him.

"Anyway Abs, I'm taking Tony home before he starts an epidemic in the agency. Knowing him, its not unlikely."

"Feel better Tony!" Abby blew a kiss as the car drove, somewhat slowly, away.

OOOOO

"Stupid, stubborn Tony. He does not know his own limits. He is too busy trying to be tough and doesn't realise that he is sick as a cat." Ziva muttered, angrily pacing the bullpen.

"It's 'sick as a dog', Ziva. And I know Tony may be immature and inconsiderate sometimes, he didn't get sick on purpose." McGee said, watching her pace as he ran a search on the suspect's phone and credit records.

Ziva turned. "I know, Tim. I guess I'm just concerned. I have never seen somebody throw up so much in so little time."

"He didn't look good," McGee agreed, turning back to his search results. "But he's Tony. He'll bounce back good as new in a couple days."

OOOOO

"Okay, Tony, we're here." Gibbs said softly, opening the door for his agent.

Tony flinched, waking suddenly. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep. Last thing he remembered was…. throwing up on the side of the road, again. He cringed at the memory.

_He called me Tony. Hardly ever does that_. Tony thought through the haze of his mind. He followed Gibbs into the lobby of the apartment complex and stood as Gibbs pressed the lift button for his floor.

_How does Gibbs know my floor number? _Tony wondered. _Or my apartment number? Or where I live for that matter_. They had walked down the hallway and Gibbs was unlocking Tony's door using a key on his keyring before Tony could figure it out. _Ah, personal records. Good ol' Gibbs…. Damn. Should've cleaned up the place_.

Gibbs briefly surveyed the apartment, an amused smile on his face. Nothing really surprising, knowing Tony. The coffee table was littered with DVDs and men's magazines. A case next to the wide-screen television was stacked with DVDs. The kitchen sink was cluttered with dishes and glasses in need of a scrub. Beside the door was a couple of pizza boxes and a few beer bottles. Must be trash collection day.

Gibbs helped Tony in, taking him into the bedroom. For some reason, the King-sized bed was neatly made, complete with piles of fluffy pillows and a lush bedspread. Gibbs started to unbutton Tony's shirt, but Tony weakly pushed him away.

"C'mon boss, I can take care of myself." He said, fingers fumbling on the buttons.

"Hmm so far I'm not convinced, DiNozzo." Gibbs left the room, walking into the bathroom to give Tony some privacy.

When he returned, holding a glass of water and some aspirin, Tony was dressed in a long pair of pajama bottoms and no shirt. He took the pills gratefully and chugged the water.

"Thanks boss." Tony climbed into bed wearily.

Gibbs nodded. "Call me if you need anything. And don't even think of coming into work tomorrow."

He paused, expecting a smart retort from the young agent. But DiNozzo was already asleep. With a smile, Gibbs turned off the light.

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**A/N: I promise you'll find out what's really wrong with Tony next chapter - I just have to adjust the wording, I dont want to disappoint! Should be up tomorrow. Thanks for reading, reviews and suggestions are always appreciated :)**

**Super-em**


	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter Four**

The next morning, Ziva finally gave into the concern that had been nibbling at her since the previous morning and went to visit Tony. Not bothering to knock, firstly because she didn't want to wake Tony if he was asleep and secondly because she didn't need to, Ziva swiftly picked the lock, quietly entering the apartment. Smiling at his taste in magazines, she tip-toed into the bedroom.

Tony was sleeping, albeit fitfully. His hair was drenched in sweat and the bedding was bunched up in a ball to suggest he'd been tossing and turning. Despite the heat his body was radiating, Tony shivered, his legs curled into his body as he lay on his side.

"Tony. Tony?"

Tony heard a voice calling him from the swirling grey dreams and slowly, he became aware of his surroundings. It was Ziva. He'd know that voice anywhere. And he was in his house, in his bed.

Opening his eyes, Tony groaned. So much for Ducky's advice. A night's rest was supposed to make him feel better. He felt like someone had been jumping on his head with a pogo stick. Although it hadn't been a very restful night. He had to keep waking up and rushing to the bathroom to throw up.

Ziva came into focus as his eyesight cleared. She smiled. What did she have to be happy about?

"Feeling better, my little hairy-butt?"

Tony groaned again. "No."

Ziva frowned. "Well maybe we just need to get some food into you?"

The mere suggestion of food was enough to set him off. Throwing himself out of bed, Tony stumbled into the bathroom to kneel in front of the toilet. Ziva followed. She didn't like what she was seeing. When Tony was finished he sighed, leaning against the bathroom wall.

"Come on Tony. A hot shower will make you feel much better." He didn't resist as she pulled him up, turning on the water. It was only as she pulled on the drawstring of his pants that he realized what was happening.

"Hey." Normally the prospect of a beautiful woman undressing him was most attractive. Normally he would have invited, no, pulled her into the shower with him. But normally, he didn't feel like his head would explode at the slightest hint of motion, or his stomach would turn at every smell he experienced.

He stood under the hot water, losing track of time as the steam built up. Ziva was right. It did make him feel marginally better. By the time he emerged, white fluffy towel wrapped around his hips, Ziva had changed the sheets of his bed. A new pair of pajamas was laid out ready for him and the bottle of aspirin and some water was on the table beside his bed.

"Thanks Ziva," he murmured, not daring to tempt the storm raging within his head by speaking any louder. He went first to the painkillers, then pulled the pajamas on, climbing into the crisp sheets. As he settled back in, Ziva returned, poking a thermometer into his mouth. She was on the phone.

"Same temp as yesterday, Ducky." She said, pulling it out again. "No, he's still throwing up. …Yes, perhaps worse. Okay, I will see you soon." She closed the phone, returning it to her pocket.

"That was Ducky. Just checking up on you. Do you think you will be okay here? I can stay if you like, Gibbs will understand."

Tony shook his head. "Nah, I'll survive. Go."

She turned smiling at Tony. He smiled back as she left. Closing the door, Ziva was impressed. Even on minimum sleep and despite fighting the urge to constantly throw up, Tony's smile could still charm the shirt off any red-blooded woman. Or was it the pants, she thought with a shrug. Figuratively speaking of course.

OOOOO

"Ducky I do not like this." Abby declared as she chewed on the straw of her Caff-Pow.

"Nor do I, Abigail. I must say, this is most unusual."

The pair stood in front of the plasma screen, scrutinizing the results of Tony's blood test.

"These pathogens, what can you tell me about them?" Ducky said, pointing to the column of the bar graph that was flashing on the screen.

"Hmmm. Not much so far, except that it's not your run-of-the mill bug. I'm running another test to see if I can narrow it down to see what's really wrong with Tony."

"I just spoke to Ziva." Ducky said. "Poor Anthony's condition does not seem to be improving."

"Damn." Abby muttered, focusing her gaze on the flashing images on the monitor as the pathogen ran through the search engine.

"Whadda ya got, Abby?" The hiss of the sliding doors alerted her to Gibbs' presence.

Abby frowned. "Not a lot, boss. We located a pathogen, but haven't identified it yet. We still don't know what's making Tony sick!" She slammed the keyboard, spinning on her chair to face Gibbs.

"Well okay, Abs. I was actually talking about the case. Did you manage to get a location from the trace on the phone records McGee was running?"

Abby sighed. "No, he must have either turned off or destroyed the cell phone. The last call placed was 3 days ago. But don't you try and change the subject, Gibbs. Ziva says Tony's not getting any better. I know you're concerned. But for that matter, how come Ziva gets to visit Tony? You wouldn't even let me hug him!"

"Ziva visited Tony because I ordered her to. And we need you down here, tracking down our killer-rapist."

Abby's face brightened a little. "So, what you're saying is you'd rather Ziva get sick than me?"

Gibbs groaned inwardly. DiNozzo _has an uncanny ability for causing disruption,_ he thought. _Even incapacitated and vomiting, he can still cause commotion in the team._

Abby continued. "You know, I think I can forgive you now Gibbs. It's nice to know I'm wanted." She smiled.

"Abby, it's not like that. Ziva worked at MOSSAD for years. She's had exposure to pathogens far worse than whatever DiNozzo's got, so she has a stronger immune system."

Abby nodded, selectively listening. "Love you too Gibbs!"

Gibbs shook his head, handing her the Caff-Pow he'd been holding as he left the office.

"Find my killer!" He shouted back as the doors closed.

Abby saluted to him as he left, turning to Ducky, the new plastic straw placed firmly in her mouth.

"Are you gonna go check on Tony?"

Ducky nodded. "I need to complete my report on our female petty officer, but that shouldn't take long. I'll leave as soon as I'm finished."

"I'm coming too."

Ducky began to protest, but he knew any attempts were futile. Abby was as stubborn as Tony, if not more so.

"If you must, Abigail. But we need to know what's making him sick. Call me as soon as you get a hit from your search."

Abby nodded as he left, turning back to the computer.

OOOOO

"Ducky!" Abby's face appeared on the small screen mounted on the desk. Ducky looked up in surprise from his paperwork.

"Hello Abigail. Do you have results already? Its only been 15 minutes since I left you."

Abby nodded, the plastic straw still hanging from her mouth. She took a gulp. "You sound surprised, Ducky! I'm the best, remember."

"How could I forget, my dear. What do you have to tell me?"

Abby frowned. "Its strange. The virus I found in Tony's blood was also found in the bloodstream of a petty officer found dead at Norfolk two weeks ago."

Realization dawned in the doctor's eyes. "Oh, my, Abby. I completed the autopsy of that young man. He was found in a basement. I believe he was involved in a drug-ring."

"We didn't investigate that, did we Ducky? I don't remember running those tests." Abby said, confused.

"No, no. It was quiet here in DC, so Mr. Palmer and I were sent to assist the M.E. at the base in Norfolk. Quite a busy time for them, I believe there were three unrelated bodies found in the space of a week. Quite an unusual case, that. Not the most pleasant death, let me tell you. "

"The virus killed the petty officer!?!" Abby whispered, the straw finally falling from her mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, I thought I had this story all sewn up - Tony'd get sick, suffer a little and then Ducky would make him all better. Even had the last 2 chapters written! But then your comments got me thinking, he can't get off that easily! Sorry bout the cliffhanger of last chapter - to make it up to ya, here's the next chapter (heaps longer than usual for some reason). More Tony-torture is on the cards... just appeasing my inner sadist. Also gotta send a shout out to Ivy3 for picking up on my sloppiness - oops! Thanks for the awesome reviews, always put a smile on my face. Please keep em coming if you like what you read (even if you don't- i'm open to all suggestions). Thanks for reading!**

**Super-em**

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**

"No no, my dear," Ducky said, seeing the fear in Abby's eyes. "He was shot in the abdomen at close range with a shot-gun. A most painful way to die, if I do say so."

"The virus didn't kill him." Abby said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"But, Abigail, that is not to say that it couldn't have."

"WHAT?"

"It wasn't my place to investigate further, as Mr Palmer and I were only on loan to the Norfolk base. But once I had established the cause of death, which clearly was a gunshot wound to the stomach, the agents wanted nothing more to do with me. Typical young agents, rude and arrogant. Gibbs would have none of that. If I remember correctly, they did not feel it was necessary to investigate the virus any further than a blood test quite like the one you just completed. I believe they simply assumed that the petty officer picked up the virus on one of his many trips to Mexico as part of the drug ring."

"As Gibbs would say, never assume anything." Abby said grimly. Her computer beeped in the background.

"One second Duck."

She spun around on the chair, sending her pigtails flying in all directions. Typing a sequence on the keyboard, she frowned. Faster, she typed another sequence. The machine beeped again and her frown deepened.

"This is strange Ducky. I just got the results from the tests I ran on the vic, the female petty officer's blood. It's only just finished because I put a rush on Tony's tests. The blood sample is positive for the same virus we found in Tony and the dead man from Norfolk's blood."

"That does explain how Tony came in contact with the virus. But now we have another question to answer; how did the female petty officer from the park come in contact with it?"

"Coincidence?" Abby offered.

"I don't believe in coincidences." Gibbs stood behind Abby in her lab, placing a new Caff-Pow on her desk.

"Gibbs! I've just been talking to Ducky, the virus that's making Tony sick also came up in the blood tests of our victim, as well as a dead petty officer Ducky worked on two weeks ago."

"I thought you established the COD, Duck." Gibbs said, sticking his face right into the camera. Ducky jumped back a little in autopsy, startled by the stretched face which appeared on his screen.

"Ah, hello again Jethro. I did establish the cause of death, our petty officer died due to massive internal organ failure. From what I have gathered, as I am sure you've already read in my preliminary report, her kidneys were the first to go, quickly followed by the liver. But, as I've just been typing in my conclusive comments, I was unable to find any reason for the organ failure. She was young and fit, I simply cannot explain it."

Gibbs flipped open his phone, pressing a button.

"McGee!" He barked. "I need you to find a connection between our victim and –" He stopped to look at the face on one of Abby's computer screens. "Petty Officer Nathan Jones….. Yeah, I know he's dead. NCIS Norfolk investigated. But I need a connection. Now!" He hung up on McGee, turning back to Abby and Ducky on the monitor.

"McGee's looking into it. So if DiNozzo caught the virus off the DB, how come you're not sick?"

"Autopsy contains some pretty powerful chemicals, Gibbs. Probably strong enough to destroy any airborne traces of the virus." Abby offered, sipping on the Caff-Pow.

"Correct, Abigail. Which means Tony must have been exposed at the crime scene. He was photographing the body as I took the time of death. My guess is that the virus was released into the air when I punctured the skin with the liver probe. His exposure is quite unlikely really; he must've been standing directly in the path of the wind to be infected."

"You sound surprised, Duck. It's DiNozzo we're talking about." Gibbs said.

"Of course, Jethro. His wet clothes definitely did not help, although to be infected, his immune system must've been more compromised by the Y-Pestis then we initially hoped." Ducky said sadly.

"Wait a minute," Abby said, quickly backtracking. "The petty officer died of massive internal organ failure? The virus did that to her? So Tony…" Her voice died off as her face paled. "Ducky, I cant wait any longer. We need to go see Tony now!"

Gibbs wrapped an arm around Abby's shoulder. "I need you to do one thing first, Abs." He ignored the pout he received from her. "Run a tox screen on the female petty officer's blood sample."

Abby turned to the mass spectrometer, pressing a few buttons. Satisfied, she turned back. "Done."

"Done?"

"It's gonna take at least 8 hours Gibbs, 6 if you're nice to me. In the meantime, I'm going to see Tony."

OOOOO

Ducky and Abby stood at the door to Tony's apartment, debating whether they should knock on the door.

"Oh wait. Gibbs gave me a key. Now we don't have to wake him," Abby whispered, sliding the key into the slot.

Tony was lying in the middle of the bed, the sheets sweaty and crumpled. He was asleep, his skin pale, but his cheeks flushed. Mumbling slightly, his head thrashed from side to side.

"Do you think he's dreaming about a tennis match?" Abby joked with a giggle before realizing the seriousness of the situation.

Ducky sat down on the bed, placing his hand over Tony's forehead. Tony shuddered at the cool touch on his feverish skin. Slowly he woke up, seeing Ducky leaning over him.

"Wha…" _Ducky's here? Why would Ducky be in my bedroom? Last time I woke up with Ducky leaning over me, I was in…_ "hospital" Tony muttered as he opened his eyes. With relief he saw he was still in his room. It only took a second for the headache to return, and return it did with a much greater intensity. Tony winced involuntarily, knowing it wouldn't be long before the nausea followed suit.

"Hello, my boy." Ducky said with a smile. "Are you feeling any better?"

Tony laughed at that, but it came out as a cough, which shook his whole body leaving him gasping for breath. Black spots danced in front of his eyes as his head pounded.

"Take that as a no." A voice Tony recognized was coming from behind Ducky. Abby. She sounded worried. He smiled in her general direction as he finally was able to breathe freely, the black dots slowly dispersing.

Ducky sat beside him on the bed, drawing a thermometer from his medical bag. He inserted it into Tony's mouth. After a minute, he pulled it out, examining it closely.

"Oh dear Anthony. Your temperature seems to have spiked considerably. Let me check it again, make sure the old thermometer is still working. I believe I've become accustomed to using the electronic ones."

"Hey, could be worse Tony." Abby said, moving closer. "He could be using a liver probe."

Tony chuckled at that as Ducky returned the thermometer to his mouth. Just as he did so, the nausea returned with a vengeance. Tony turned an unusual shade of green at a rate that surprised even Ducky. Yanking the thermometer out, Tony somehow got himself out of bed and into the bathroom just in time. Ducky followed him in time to see Tony throwing up with a much greater force than previously. It was several minutes before he was able to stop himself.

"Jesus." Tony whispered, steadying himself. "You'd think there'd be nothing left after two days without food and a helluva lot of puking."

"You'd be surprised, my boy. In fact, this reminds me of a memorable trip to South Korea. I was a young lad, perhaps 30, recently graduated from medical school. Anyway, -" He stopped as Tony began throwing up again. Abby pushed past Ducky, wrapping her arms around Tony as he leaned back, sweating profusely.

"I'm sorry, Tony, but I think we both know this is no 24 hour virus." Ducky said grimly. "I'm going to call a colleague of mine at the hospital. Your body simply cannot handle the stress that uncontrollable vomiting places upon it."

Ducky stepped outside of the bathroom, calling the doctor on his mobile. By the time he hung up, Tony's skin had faded from bright green to something a little closer to its usual colour. Still dripping with sweat, he let Abby help him back to the bed.

"Tony, you're not going to like what I have to say, but please try to listen. I just spoke to a specialist at the hospital. She agrees with me, you need to be admitted for observation.

Even in his considerably weakened state, Tony began to voice his objections, but Ducky was having none of it. "Tony, this is serious. As well as the incessant vomiting, we also have your dehydration to contend with, and we have to consider the residual effects and damage caused by your exposure to the plague. The hospital is sending an ambulance to pick us up. This is non-negotiable."

"But Duck-" Tony argued. The memory of his last two car trips was all too real in his mind, and he was in no rush for a repeat session, especially since he could barely walk to the bathroom without retching.

"Anthony, do not make me bring Gibbs in to make you cooperate."

That shut Tony up. A few minutes later, a paramedic knocked on the door. Abby led her in.

"Doctor Mallard? Doctor Jensen sent us to pick up a patient." She said.

Ducky pointed to Tony in the bed and she nodded, waving to her partner to bring the stretcher in.

"I can walk." Tony grumbled as they transferred him onto the stretcher and covered him with blankets. "This is so embarrassing. What are my neighbours going to think?"

"For your own good, Tony." Abby said matter-of-factly, striding beside the stretcher in her black combat boots.

Tony snorted, following it up with a suppressed cough. "My own good. Do you have any idea what gossips my neighbours are? Do you know what this is going to do for my reputation?"

Abby laughed as they entered the elevator. "Tony, I don't think anything we do could soil your reputation, knowing your habits."

Tony pouted and Abby rubbed his head, glad her friend was looking better already. _Must be my company_ she thought jokingly as they exited the building, the paramedics pushing the stretcher into the back of the parked ambulance.

"Abigail, would you mind riding with Tony? I'll follow behind in my car, she's a little temperamental sometimes." Ducky said.

"Of course, Duck. I'll see you there."

"Well I must warn you, as unfriendly as it sounds, do try to sit away from young Anthony. We've already seen the effects of his nausea, and from what Ziva and Gibbs tell me, traveling only makes it worse. I'd hate for those beautiful boots of yours to be ruined if it could be helped."

"Duly noted, Duck." Abby said brightly, waving as the doors of the ambulance shut behind her. The ambulance took off into the darkening night, sirens turned off. With a sigh, Ducky climbed into his car, driving after it.

OOOOO

"He what? How in the world did you get him to agree to that?" Gibbs said to Ducky as they spoke on the phone. Ducky was waiting at the hospital as the doctors ran a few tests on Tony. Gibbs, along with McGee and Ziva, was still at the office working the connection between the two infected, dead petty officers. Ziva and McGee looked up as Gibbs laughed heartily as Ducky told him of his threat.

"Okay Duck, keep me posted. I'll come over later." Gibbs hung up the phone. McGee and Ziva looked across expectantly.

"So?" McGee asked.

"So what?"

"Is Tony doing better?"

"No, they took him to hospital for some tests."

"But Tony hates hospitals!" Ziva exclaimed. In her short time at NCIS Tony had frequented the hospital twice, and she had to listen to his complaints for months after each visit. _Perhaps he would feel differently if the nurses still dressed in those short white dresses_, she thought, chuckling softly. That was another thing Tony complained about, the nurses dressing in scrubs now. "_It really is inconsiderate to the poor patients, those uniforms leave everything to the imagination"_ she remembered him saying on more than one occasion.

"I know, Ziva. Do you think Tony would be there if he didn't need to be?"

This drew a quiet gasp from both Ziva and McGee. They hadn't considered that, caught up in the fact that hospital-hating Tony had actually visited a hospital. Unconsciously, they both glanced over at Tony's empty desk. He'd been gone for over 24 hours, but they both missed his presence more than they cared to admit.

"Must be bad," McGee said under his breath. Gibbs heard, and nodded.

Ziva noticed, her eyes connecting with McGee's across the room. They'd both expected Tony to bounce right back, to be back at work the next day, maybe coughing a little to get some sympathy. They hadn't expected their teammate and friend to be sick in hospital. Judging by the way Gibbs was acting, almost like a … human, the situation was worse than anybody was willing to say.

"Gibbs, we have done all we can here for the moment." Ziva said finally, when the silence became too much. "Can we visit Tony now? I know it is late."

Gibbs was still for a moment, and for a second Ziva wasn't sure he'd heard her. Finally he nodded. "We'll all go. I think we'd better."

Without another word the three agents stood up, solemnly making their way to the lift. Gibbs stood at the front of the lift, not wanting the younger agents to read his facial expressions. _Don't know why I even worry about that_, Gibbs thought. _DiNozzo is the only one who can tell what I'm thinking. _He closed his eyes tightly, pushing negative thoughts from his mind. DiNozzo would be fine. He'd beaten the plague, he couldn't just survive the plague only to succumb to a exotic virus. The doors opened into the parking garage. Gibbs walked out into the brisk air, tailed by Ziva and McGee. They exchanged a glance, acknowledging the unspoken worry that was biting into each of them.

"He'll be fine." McGee said finally. Ziva nodded slowly, doubt still painfully obvious in her eyes.

"We can only hope, McGee."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"I must say, Doctor Mallard, this is quite an unusual case. I haven't seen a case like this for many years."

Ducky nodded. He was speaking with the Head of Infectious Diseases at the hospital they had taken Tony to.

"But you have seen this before?" Ducky asked.

"Indeed, yes. Quite a rare virus by any measure, but from the preliminary testing, this strain has been altered somewhat. The virus generally has an incubation period of 72 hours once it has entered a human host. During this time, the human will experience the same symptoms Tony has described; excessant vomiting, pounding headaches and general nausea. Quite common symptoms really, which is why in many cases, doctors diagnose the illness as a stomach bug or influenza. By the time they correct their diagnosis, it may be too late."

"Too late… so what happens after the incubation period has passed?" Ducky asked slowly.

"The virus begins to attack the internal organs. As we previously discussed, the kidneys are targeted first, compromising the body's ability to filter the blood. As a result, the harmful toxins remain in the blood. The liver usually cleanses toxins from the blood, but with this particular virus, the toxins are far too potent and can destroy the liver. From there we see a rapid declination in the condition of the patient, if indeed he or she does manage to persist despite the damage, as the toxins flood the heart, accumulating to such a point that the patient will experience massive heart failure."

Ducky felt his own hear pounding at these words. He had known a little of the information the specialist had told him, but as he listened, the opened bodies of the two petty officers he had autopsied were flashing through his head. He remembered examining the damage to their organs, remembered imagining the pain they must have suffered. And then his thoughts moved to the autopsy of Kate he had made himself perform. Gunshot wounds were nothing new, but over a year after that day, he still couldn't shake the image of her face; cold, pale, the deep hole tunneling through her skull as she lay on the metal table. She was more than a body. She was a friend, a teammate. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't lose another teammate and he certainly couldn't let Tony suffer the excruciating pain that he'd seen the virus cause.

"So this virus – how do we stop it?" He asked finally.

The doctor frowned solemnly. "We've treated patients infected with the virus before, but not with this particular strain. We have no way of knowing how this virus will react; it may have a shorter incubation period or it may have a considerably longer one. Since we just don't know, the best thing we can do for the moment is place Tony on dialysis immediately. Hopefully we can remove the virus from his bloodstream before it has any opportunities to attack his organs."

Ducky nodded, turning to look at Tony through the glass wall of the isolation room they had placed him in as a precaution. Ziva was standing close to the glass, her mouth to the communicator as she talked to Tony. Tony, for his part, was lying in the white bed with the back slightly elevated. From what Ducky could deduce, he was arguing with Ziva. Something to do with a movie.

Gibbs, Ziva and McGee had arrived at the hospital barely 20 minutes after Ducky had called Gibbs. Quite impressive considering the hospital was usually a 45 minute drive from the Navy Yard. Not altogether surprising though, since Gibbs had been driving. When they'd arrived, Tony had just been admitted and a gaggle nurses were fussing around him, making sure he was comfortable. Even Gibbs was surprised when Tony hadn't bothered to flirt with any of them. After making sure his agent was still alive, Gibbs had decided that he was of better use back at NCIS, ordering McGee to return with him and continue work on the case. Abby reluctantly returned with them, but only after Gibbs had both ordered her to come and bribed her with promises of Caff-Pows. Ziva had been left with Tony and Ducky to make sure Tony co-operated. Gibbs wasn't taking any chances with his supremely stubborn senior field agent, who was quite aware of Ziva's powers of persuasion.

Ducky did some quick maths in his head. _We were called out to the case of the dead female petty officer on Wednesday afternoon, at approximately 3 pm. _Glancing at his watch, he saw it was later than he realised. 1 am, Saturday morning. _Which means that if Tony's strain of the virus has the same incubation period as the regular strain, the virus will attack in…_

"…14 hours" Ducky muttered to himself, shaking his head. He hoped they had caught it in time.

OOOOO

"What is it McGee?"

McGee stammered, looking back up at his boss from the pile of folders he'd been examining.

"Uh… it could be nothing boss….. Its just that… you see…. I found here…. could be a connection…. then again…."

"McGee!"

"Uh, sorry boss. I was just reading over the autopsy reports of the two petty officers, and I noticed that both victims had a puncture wound on their upper arm."

Gibbs came over, snatching the reports and examining the sections McGee had examined. McGee continued.

"Petty Officer Nathan Jones was a junkie, plus he was a dealer, so its not really out of place for him to have needle marks on his arm. But I can't find any reason for Petty Officer…." McGee quickly looked back at his file. "Rachel Huntsman to have a needle mark. I guess it could be nothing, just a coincidence…"

A look from Gibbs told him otherwise.

"Or not, boss."

Gibbs walked into the middle of the bullpen, looking up at the faces of the two petty officers on the plasma screen.

"They were injected with the virus. But why?"

He stared at McGee, as if expecting an answer immediately.

"Ah…. still working on it boss." McGee started typing on the keyboard, hoping Gibbs would stop staring. Gibbs didn't. Finally, his phone rang, and Gibbs shifted his gaze to answer.

"Gibbs."

It was Abby.

"I thought we had a psychic connection, Gibbs. What gives? I've got something and I'm still all lonely down here!"

"On my way." Gibbs snapped the phone shut abruptly, motioning for McGee to come too.

OOOOO

"Gibbs! And McGee!" Abby said brightly as the two men entered the lab.

"What ya got, Abs?" Gibbs asked.

"Later. First, any news on Tony? I tried Ducky, but his phone's off."

"He's in a hospital, Abby. The signal can interfere with the equipment." McGee said.

Abby scowled at him, turning to Gibbs expectantly.

"Ziva called a few minutes ago. The doctors are placing Tony on dialysis to try and protect his kidneys."

Abby scowled again.

"So, why are we here, Abs?" Gibbs asked, a little frustrated.

"Tox results on Rachel Huntsman. Her blood tested positive for the same drug the Norfolk lab found in Petty Officer Jones. We found the connection between them."

"What sort of drug did you find?" McGee asked, peering over her shoulder at the screen.

"Heroin. And I ran an analysis on the composition, based on the traces found in the blood. It was the same for both vics. They must've had the same supplier."

Gibbs stepped a little closer, squinting at the computer screen Abby and McGee stared intently at. Didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, so he asked Abby.

"What's the likelihood that more than one dealer could use the same composition of drugs?"

"Like, really _really_ small, Gibbs." She answered with emphasis. "My machines are super-precise. We're dealing with the same dealer here."

"Wasn't Jones a drug dealer as well?" McGee said, stepping back a little.

"Jones only sold cocaine, Timmy, according to the FBI report. Didn't find any traces of it in his blood, and the tests run on a hair sample showed no evidence of cocaine in his body for the last 3 months, although he had taken 6 different drugs in that time, including some very unusual ones." Abby said, her mouth moving quickly. "Huntsman, on the other hand, was practically clean. Her hair sample showed no evidence of any drugs, except for the small amount of heroin, which entered her system 5 days before she died."

"The drug ring Jones was involved in only dealt with cocaine. It's not a stretch to imagine he would have connections, providing access to a range of drugs. He was a junkie, so he would've taken anything he could get his hands on." Gibbs said, thinking aloud.

"But he was a cocaine dealer, he had unlimited access to that. It doesn't make sense, why didn't he do cocaine then?" McGee interrupted.

Gibbs fixed another steely stare on McGee. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"You don't crap where you eat, McGee. Golden rule of dealing."

McGee flushed, feeling like an idiot. Gibbs had a funny way of doing that, and without Tony around to reflect some of the heat he was getting, McGee was feeling especially inept.

"The anomaly here is Huntsman. She wasn't a regular user. McGee! Go interview her C.O. and talk to her friends, roommate. I want to know who, what, when and where she got the drugs. Now!" Gibbs spun on his heel, leaving the lab. As an afterthought, he turned back.

"And good job, Abs."

Abby batted her eyes. "I know."

As Gibbs left, she turned to McGee, who sighed loudly.

"Chin up Timmy! You know he's just worried about Tony."

"I guess." McGee said, unconvinced.

"Don't you remember when Tony had the plague?" Abby continued brightly.

"How could I forget."

"No, I mean Gibbs. He went all kung-fu ninja-man until he tracked down that crazy lady who sent Tony the envelope. But this time, he doesn't have anyone to blame. So he's taking it out on you, maybe not consciously. He'll be back to normal as soon as Tony comes back to work."

McGee groaned again. Even if Tony recovered, it would be several weeks at least before he returned to work. He could remember all too well the three weeks that followed Tony's infection with Y-Pestis. Gibbs had been exceedingly snippy, sarcasm dripping from his mouth almost every time he spoke to one of the team. _Longest three weeks of my life_ McGee thought. He stopped as he thought of his selfishness. Tony was sick, life-threateningly, painfully sick, and here he was complaining incessantly because Gibbs was a little grumpy. _What is it about Tony that makes him so infectiously likeable? _He thought, the pun unintentional. _He's gone two days and the whole place has a strange feel._

Abby smiled knowingly. "We're talking Tony, here." She said, reading his thoughts. "Can't live with him, can't live without him. He has this…vibe about him, makes this place fun. But he'll be back soon!"

McGee nodded, noticing the sadness etched in Abby's face that she tried to cover with her positive smile. She missed him. He did too.

"Thanks, Abs." He said, standing up from the stool he'd sat on beside Abby. He had a C.O. to interview. Gibbs didn't need any more excuses to be angry.

* * *

**  
Hope that wasn't too confusing... I apologise for the lack of Tony-angst and Tony in general. Rest assured there'll be plenty of that in the next chapter. Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews. I'm sorry that I don't reply to them all personally. Between school, work, sport and writing this story (not to mention reading Harry Potter) I don't always have the time, I hope you don't think I'm just being rude. But please know that they're totally appreciated, I love to hear what you think! Thanks for reading!!!**

**super-em**


	7. Chapter 7

Many hugs to _Tweeter_ for helping me out with some of the details in this chapter. Muchly appreciated :)  
Thanks also to everyone for reading and for the awesome reviews... hope you enjoy!  
**  
super-em**

* * *

Chapter Seven 

Tony leant forward in the bed, knees bent as he coughed. He looked around the isolation room. Everything was white, stark white. It was all too similar to the isolation room at Bethesda when he'd been infected with the plague. But at least then he had Kate to keep him company. Gibbs had ordered Ziva to accompany McGee to the Navy base to interview people about the dead petty officer. Never mind that it was the middle of the night.

He lowered himself back onto the pillow, being gentle of his aching head. Nobody was telling him what was happening. Since the results of his blood test had come back, he'd been whisked into this room for observation and apart from Ziva talking through the communicator in the wall, he had nobody to talk to. He could see Ducky standing outside, talking to a doctor.

_Looks serious_, he thought, observing their solemn faces. Ducky glanced over again, looking at his watch. _Why does he keep doing that?_ _Is anybody going to tell me what's going on?_

Another cough racked his body, sending shudders through his skull. _Deep breaths, Tony. Just keep breathing. _A flash of movement caught his eye through the glass walls of his sterile prison. Gasping for air, Tony looked over, focusing his eyes. Two doctors and two nurses had entered the sterilization chamber, dressing in the appropriate masks and coats to protect themselves from infection. They were pushing a large machine between them.

Entering the room, the medical staff busied themselves connecting the machine. Tony cleared his throat.

"Uh, does anyone want to tell me what's going on here?"

A doctor turned around, almost as if just noticing Tony was there.

"Ah, special agent DiNozzo. Allow me to explain. We are about to place you on hemodialysis to prevent the virus from causing renal damage. This machine will pump the blood from your body, passing it through a hydrostatically pressurized semi-permanent membrane to remove the toxins from your bloodstream."

He said this very quickly, leaving Tony feeling a little dazed. The medications they had placed him on to quell the vomiting and fever weren't helping him concentrate.

"So, let me get this straight. The virus I somehow caught is damaging my kidneys?"

The doctor nodded.

"The toxins in your blood have the potential to cause damage to and even destroy your kidneys when the kidneys try to filter the blood. By placing you on dialysis, we hope to remove the virus before it has a chance to do any damage."

"Okay, is this gonna hurt?" Tony asked somewhat nervously.

"No, not the treatment itself. It will make you feel weak and tired though."

Tony snorted. He already felt weak and tired.

"The other thing you need to be aware of," the doctor continued "is that the dialysis machine will also remove the medications from your bloodstream, so the vomiting and headaches that we have been treating will return."

"Damn. The whole constant-puking thing was getting a bit old. How long is this gonna take?" Tony sat up in bed, eyeing the catheter a nurse was holding warily.

"Should take about 4 hours, since this is your first time. The good news is, further analysis on your blood sample has shown that the virus will not be contagious in its airbourne form whilst you are in this room, so you are permitted to have some visitors. They will, of course, be required to wear face masks."

Tony nodded at the doctor, eyes still focused on the nurse.

The other doctor came over, taking the catheter from the nurse.

"Okay Tony." He said. "You may feel a little sting."

"OUCH!!!!!!!!!!"

OOOOO

McGee and Ziva stepped out of the sedan. It was still dark outside, but hints of morning light were beginning to peep over the horizon.

"0400 hours. This is ridiculous," Ziva grumbled, looking around at the empty parking lot of the Navy base.

"Tell that to Gibbs," McGee replied, pulling on his NCIS jacket in the crisp air.

"Well I tried doing that, but he wouldn't listen. This is a waste of time, I should be with Tony, he shouldn't be alone."

"Ducky's still with him," McGee reminded her.

Ziva nodded, holding her arms close to her body for warmth.

"I suppose. Even so, this is strange even for Gibbs. Working all night I do not mind, especially if we are down an agent. But sending us out to interview suspects at the crunch of dawn is totally nonsensical."

"Crack of dawn." McGee corrected, taking his kit from the boot of the car. "But Gibbs is always a little strange where Tony's concerned."

"I have noticed that," Ziva said as they headed towards the administration building. "I always assumed it was because he has known Tony the longest."

"Maybe," McGee said, thinking of Gibbs' almost-affectionate head-slaps and the stuff Tony got away with that nobody else would dare to try.

The two agents pushed open the doors of the admin building, flashing their badges to the officer on duty at the front desk.

"Special Agent McGee, Officer David, NCIS." Ziva said briskly. "We need to speak with Major Neilson."

The duty officer was young and obviously not used to NCIS agents barging in during the graveyard shift.

"Major Neilson doesn't come in until 0500, ma'am." He said timidly.

Ziva scowled, turning to McGee.

"What now then?"

"Guess we wait." McGee sighed, taking a seat on one of the hard plastic chairs.

OOOOO

"Gotta tell ya Abs, I'm usually much more charming than this," Tony said weakly, bent over a basin in his hospital bed.

Abby smiled, stroking his hair. She'd caught Gibbs' at a weak moment and he'd finally allowed her to return to the hospital to see Tony. Two hours into the dialysis treatment and still vomiting, she had to agree. He'd had better days.

Abby shifted on the bed, sitting close to him to offer support. He'd lost the colour that had returned to his face when he'd been admitted to hospital; his skin was pale and clammy again, layered in cold sweat. She ran her fingers over his skin, careful not to bump the plastic tube which was inserted into the vein in his neck, drawing the blood out through one opening and returning it through the other, hopefully virus-free.

"You could put one of these machines in your lab, Abby," Tony said, lying slowly back on the mountain of pillows Abby had piled behind his back.

"It'd fit in pretty well with all those contraptions you have down there."

She chuckled, moving the basin to the table beside the bed and lying down beside her friend.

"I don't know that I'd have much use for it Tony, but I think a few of my vampire friends would be _very_ interested."

"Clean the blood before they drink it? Didn't know vampires were so fussy."

"Vampires are surprisingly hygienic for …well, blood suckers."

"Mhmm," Tony replied, his eyes closed. Abby propped herself up, examining her friend. She hated to see him hurting, and she hated the helpless feeling she was experiencing. Sitting up again, she slid off the bed, moving to sit beside Ducky in one of the stiff plastic chairs an orderly had brought in for them.

"How's he doing, Duck?" she said softly.

Ducky had been sitting there under the pretense of reading the worn paperback novel he held, but she knew full-well that his attention was solely focused on the numbers and flashing lights indicating the status of the dialysis machine, as well as the patient lying before them.

"2 more hours Abigail." He replied, patting her hand. "2 more hours and the procedure will be finished. By such time, the virus should be removed from his system and our dear friend will be feeling much better."

"Hope you're right Ducky," Abby said sadly.

Tony stirred, sleeping feverishly. Suddenly his eyelids popped open and he grabbed for the basin again, throwing up again. Abby gave Ducky a worried look, moving quickly to help him.

"Bloody hell." Tony said, wiping his mouth. His head was pounding, his throat was scratchy from the vomiting, his muscles ached. Everything hurt. Even the thin sheet covering his body felt like lead pressing down on him. Eyes shut, he tried to ride out the waves of pain, cautious of the catheter digging into his neck.

"How much longer do I have to do this, Duck?" He asked, longing for the medications which had made him feel considerably better only a few hours ago.

"I'm sorry, Anthony. The procedure takes another 90 minutes."

"Damn." Tony clenched his eyes shut a little harder, wishing it was all over and he could sleep peacefully, waking up without an excruciating headache and being able to keep his food down. Not that he had any appetite. The mere thought of his favourite meat-lovers pizza was enough to set him off again, and it took all of his will power to keep his mouth shut. He was sick of throwing up.

"An hour and a half's not too bad, Tony." Abby said, trying to be positive. She sat on the bed again, rubbing his back. Tony was shivering a little.

"An hour and a half is a lifetime," Tony muttered, lying back down again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Major Neilson." Ziva jumped up from the chair as the man walked through the doors of the office in his painstakingly starched and ironed military uniform.

McGee glanced at his watch. 0500 hours exactly.

"Ziva David. NCIS. We need to talk to you about Petty Officer Huntsman."

Neilson nodded, startled at being approached so early in the morning, on a Saturday no less. Directing them to his office, he threw a questioning look to the officer manning the front desk. The officer shrugged, so Neilson followed the NCIS agents into his office.

"Major Neilson, as I'm sure you are aware, Petty Officer Rachel Huntsman was found dead in a park in Baltimore three days ago." Ziva began, standing in the middle of the office. McGee took a seat in front of her at Neilson's desk.

Major Neilson nodded. "It's a tragedy. Such a promising young officer. Did you find her killer? I presume that's why you're here?"

"Major Neilson, we need to talk to you about Petty Officer Huntsman's personal habits. Were you aware of her involvement with drugs?"

The major looked a little surprised. "Rachel was still involved with drugs?"

"Still?" McGee cut in, shooting Major Neilson a look. "We didn't find any records of her drug usage in her personnel files."

Realizing he'd been caught out, the major sighed.

"These recruits, when they come to me, they're so young. Rachel especially, she was the youngest of the group. As the Commanding Officer, I take on the surrogate-father role of sorts. About a year ago, Rachel was caught snorting heroin her quarters. I dealt with it personally, didn't feel it was necessary to mar her career in the navy over such an incident."

"You dealt with it personally? Please elaborate, Major Neilson." Ziva said sternly.

"I…ah… I arranged for her to take some personal leave, drove her up to a rehab program. I made a deal with her, I wouldn't put this on her permanent record under the condition that she would regularly attend Narcotics Anonymous meetings. There is a group that meets every Saturday in the small town two kilometers from this base. That way, there was less chance that she would run into anyone who would recognize her. As far as I knew, Rachel kept up her end of the deal. I really believed she was still clean."

"Apparently not. Our blood tests found traces of heroin in her system, taken five days before her death." McGee said, standing up from his chair.

Major Neilson looked down, shaking his head softly.

"Oh Rachel, why did you do it?"

McGee and Ziva took their leave, quickly questioning the friends and team-members of Huntsman. Apart from Neilson, nobody they talked to mentioned drugs, leading McGee and Ziva to the conclusion that only Neilson and Huntsman had been in on the deal.

"Something hinky going on between those two," McGee said as they made their way back to the car. By now the sun was out and several more cars occupied the car park.

"I agree." Ziva said simply, whisking the keys out of McGee's hand before he had a chance to resist.

"So what now?" McGee asked, not wanting to return to the base with only the little information they'd been able to gather.

"Now we check out the Narcotics Anonymous meeting. The major said they meet every Saturday."

"What are you thinking?"

"Just a hunk," Ziva shrugged, the car tearing out of the base, leaving a huge trail of dust in its wake.

"Hunch." McGee said, holding on and closing his eyes.

OOOOO

"M-My name is Pete, and I'm a drug addict." Pete stood nervously at the front of a small group seated at a local café.

"Hi Pete," The group chorused. A small smile of relief showed on Pete's face and he took his seat gratefully.

"I guess we found it," McGee said to Ziva, looking at the scene through the tinted car window. They were parked just outside the café, watching the group closely for any clues.

Less than 30 minutes later, the meeting finished, the group members quickly dispersing. The group leader remained at the café, finishing his mug of coffee.

"Lets see if he knows anything." Ziva said, hopping out of the car.

OOOOO

"Yeah, I know Rachel," Zeke Lawell said, taking a quick glance at the headshot of Petty Officer Huntsman.

"She's in the Navy, I think. Didn't see her at the meeting, which is strange. She's been a regular for the past year or so."

"Rachel Huntsman is dead, Mr Lawell." Ziva said bluntly, examining his reaction.

"D-dead? Rachel? Oh my." Zeke turned his head a little, looking shocked at the news. "She didn't… it wasn't drugs, was it?"

McGee shook his head. "No, she didn't overdose. We did find traces of heroin in her system. Did you have any idea she'd relapsed?"

Zeke's face was grim. "No, but there was a man hanging around the café a few meetings ago. Approached a few of my people afterwards. They told me later, he was a dealer trying to sell them drugs." He shook his head in disgust. "It appalls me, these kinds of people. Targeting helpless people at their lowest point, tempting them when they're at their weakest. I gave that man a piece of my mind the next time I saw him lurking. Rachel never mentioned it to me, though."

"This man, do you believe you could identify him if you saw him again?" Ziva said from behind, causing the man to jump a little.

"Ah.. yes, I believe I could. Had a pretty distinctive tattoo on his arm, a purple parrot. Taller than me, dark blonde hair, fair complexion.

Zeke turned his gaze back to the near-empty cappuccino before him, draining the remainder and standing up.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to be somewhere."

"Of course. Thanks for your help." McGee said, standing as well.

"Anything I can do to help. Such a sweet girl…" The man hurried of down the street of the busy little town.

"Think he was telling the truth?" McGee asked, putting his sunglasses back on.

Ziva frowned. "I cannot say for sure. He did act a little strangely."

McGee shrugged. "Some people are just like that. Strange. You know, Petty Officer Nathan Jones had a tattoo, I think."

"It was him, Jones did have a parrot tattoo on his arm. Matches the physical description as well." Ziva said. "This is no coincidence then, no random killing. Jones and Huntsman met before they died. They knew each other."

"But where do we go from here?" McGee asked as they returned to the car.

Ziva stood for a moment, thinking.

"One of the young petty officers we spoke to mentioned Huntsman had a close friend who she used visit in this town. We might as well speak to her while we are here."

"Okay." McGee rang NCIS HQ for an address on the friend and they drove to the house.

OOOOO

To say that Joanna Short was upset by Rachel Huntsman's death was the understatement of the week. The twenty-two year old sat on the mottled sofa in the dingy apartment she called home, wailing like a two-year old. McGee and Ziva stood back a little, unsure of what to do.

"You talk to her!" McGee hissed, shoving Ziva forward.

Ziva did not like being touched. A flash from her eyes was enough to send McGee walking meekly over to the distraught young lady.

"Rach was my best friend," She sobbed, wiping her face on McGee's shirt. He hid a grimace, awkwardly rubbing her shoulder.

"Been like that for a couple days, since she saw the reports on the news," A neighbour told Ziva in the hallway. "Getting a little old, to be frank. I mean, I understand she's upset, but some of us work shifts. We need our sleep. Could you just ask her to keep it down."

Ziva walked away, a little surprised at the way the conversation had turned. By the time she re-entered the apartment, Joanna was sitting upright and for now, the wailing had ceased. Ziva wandered around while McGee spoke to her, noting the assorted drug paraphernalia littering the bench that Joanna had made no effort to conceal. After checking out the bedroom and bathroom, Ziva returned to the living room.

"You do drugs." It wasn't a question. The girl nodded tearfully. "What do you know about Rachel's drug history?"

"She used to…we messed around a little. But she got busted, and she had to get clean."

"So as far as you know, Rachel hadn't touched drugs recently." McGee said, folding his arms.

Joanna looked a little nervous so Ziva set her steely eyes onto her.

"Okay, okay. Not long ago, Rachel's father died. She got a little depressed, guess she needed something to numb the pain. There was this guy she told me about…."

"Yes?"

"He.. he was a drug dealer she met with after one of her meetings. Sold cocaine, I think. Heroin was Rach's thing, but he said he had a contact, could hook her up."

McGee and Ziva left the apartment, beginning the trip back to the Navy Yard. They felt more than a little relieved. At least now they had something substantial to tell Gibbs.

OOOOO

Abby was not happy. The director had recalled her to NCIS to analyse evidence that had just come in on a homicide case run by another NCIS team. Grumbling under her breath at the evil phone, she hugged Tony who was on the home stretch of the dialysis, 20 minutes to go. He still wasn't looking so hot, still vomiting periodically and sweating. But she knew she was leaving him in good hands. Ducky remained faithfully in his chair by the bed, rising every so often to wipe Tony's forehead with a cool cloth.

"Bye Tony. This is almost over, I swear." She kissed him briefly on the cheek.

Tony grunted in reply, his eyes closed.

Smiling back at Ducky, Abby reluctantly left. Tony's doctor passed her on the way in. Ducky stood up to talk to him.

"How is it looking?" Ducky asked.

The doctor frowned a little.

"We are seeing some improvements as the dialysis progresses. What continues to concern me is the vomiting and nausea Tony continues to experience. Realistically, it should have improved by now, even if dialysis hasn't fully completed."

"So in theory," Ducky said "the vomiting should be slowing, the dialysis machine should have completely removed the virus and he shouldn't be experiencing these symptoms anymore."

"And if the virus is not causing the vomiting, that means that –"

"We were too late." Ducky said softly.

* * *

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	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"What you got?" Gibbs said, sitting up at his desk as Ziva and McGee entered the bull-pen.

"We established where the drugs came from, talked to the Commanding Officer and interviewed some friends." McGee said, detailing the progress they'd made.

"This Zeke priest-guy, the Narcotics Anonymous leader. What's his background?" Gibbs asked with a frown when McGee had filled him in.

McGee typed rapidly on the keyboard. A picture of Zeke Lawell appeared on the plasma, along with his records.

"He works for the Uniting Church. Transferred to DC 2 months ago from Maine. He ran a local Narcotics Anonymous group there too."

McGee ran a search, changing the perimeters to search specifically in Maine. A series of newspaper articles popped up on the screen.

"Uh boss?"

"What is it, McGee?"

"Two members of his support group in Maine died under similar, suspicious circumstances. They never caught the perp. Lawell transferred a few weeks after that second person died."

"So what are you waiting for? Bring him in!" Gibbs stood up, heading for the lift.

"Where are you going Gibbs?" Ziva said, standing as well.

"To see DiNozzo. I want that guy sweating in the interrogation room by the time I get back."

OOOOO

Tony felt sleepy. Very sleepy. His first, and hopefully last, dialysis treatment was finished after the longest four hours of his life, and now he was lying back, waiting for the long-awaited drugs to take effect.

"No more throwing up for DiNozzo," he said cheerfully to the empty room. Abby was back at NCIS and Ducky had gone outside to speak to his doctor again.

"Is that so?"

"Hey boss."

Gibbs stood at the door, coffee in hand. He took a sip.

"Solve the case, boss?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Ziva and McGee are bringing him in as we speak."

"What was the motive?" Tony said, sitting up a little and trying not to betray how tired he felt.

"Don't know, DiNozzo. Ducky says you should be feeling better soon."

"That's the plan, boss. Thanks to a plastic tube and that horrible machine at your 3 o'clock, I'm good as new."

"You look like crap, Tony. You should get some sleep."

"Yes boss," Tony replied, no longer bothering to stifle a yawn. _Shoulda known Gibbs would see right through me. I am tired…_

"When are they letting me out of this place?" Tony asked, as if he'd just realized he was inside a hospital.

Gibbs stared right at him.

"As soon as you're better, DiNozzo." He said, as if it was a dumb question. Probably was.

"But I'm better now boss."

But Gibbs was not convinced, for at that moment, Tony turned that funny shade of green again, vomiting over the metal rail of the bed.

OOOOO

Zeke Lawell was not in a very good mood. The two NCIS agents he'd been kind enough to speak to had barged into his church, handcuffing him and dragging him out in the middle of his sermon, offering no explanation to the startled congregation. Then, the male agent had shoved him into the back of the navy-blue sedan, causing him to hit him on the head. As if that wasn't enough, the dark-haired female agent had decided that road rules did not apply to her, driving the whole way to DC at breakneck speeds and frequently driving in the wrong lane. By some luck, he survived the journey, but his day hadn't improved since. He was currently sitting at a desk in what he assumed was an interrogation room, staring at the hallowed-eyed man reflected in the mirror. He shot a deadly glare at the mirror, knowing that the two agents were probably standing there watching him.

Standing on the other side of the mirror, Ziva considered showing him just how deadly her glare could be, but decided against it when she remembered that it was a one-way mirror.

"He looks pretty angry." McGee observed, taking a sip from his mocha frappe. They'd had some time to spare waiting for Gibbs to return from the hospital, so McGee and Ziva had gone for brunch, typed their reports, spoken to the officers investigating the murders in Maine, and then McGee did another coffee run. All the while, Zeke Lawell had been sitting, waiting in the interrogation room.

"Perhaps I should turn the heating back on?" Ziva said innocently.

McGee snorted into his straw. No wonder Lawell looked ready to kill. It was freezing.

"Nah, I don't think so." He said, regaining his composure. Ziva shrugged.

"If you say so. Gibbs should be back shortly anyway."

McGee looked at his watch. It was getting close to midday. Gibbs had left at about 8 am, which meant he had spent almost 4 hours at the hospital. _Hope everything's okay,_ McGee thought. _Gibbs hates hospitals almost as much as Tony. He wouldn't be there unless he had to._

Ziva seemed to be having similar thoughts.

"He may not still be at the hospital, McGee." She said, although she couldn't think of anywhere else Gibbs had reason to go.

McGee let out a sigh. "I'm going to see Abby."

OOOOO

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not known for his patience. Nor was he known for being openly affectionate. Yet there he stood, staring through the window of Tony's hospital room, drumming his fingers anxiously on the glass. He wasn't aware he was even doing it until he felt Ducky's hand gently press down on his, stopping the tapping.

"He'll be okay, Jethro." Ducky said. Gibbs had been asked to leave the room after Tony started vomiting again. Apparently it was a very bad sign. But Gibbs wasn't sure what was happening. He didn't understand half of what the doctors had said.

"What's going on in there, Duck?"

"At the moment, Tony's symptoms seem to indicate that the virus did indeed manage to damage at least part of his kidneys. The severity of the damage remains to be seen, his doctors are waiting on the test results to find out."

"I though the dialysis was supposed to fix him!"

Ducky sighed.

"That was the plan, Jethro. The doctors put him on dialysis in the hope that it would fix him. But we know so little about the specifics of the virus, essentially its just a guessing game."

"And we guessed wrong." Gibbs smacked his hand against the glass. _DiNozzo, maybe I should just put you in a plastic bubble for the rest of your life. Make my day a helluva lot easier! _

"I need coffee." Gibbs said, storming down the hallway.

OOOOO

"Hey Timmy! What brings you down here?" Abby said cheerfully, spinning in circles on her chair as she waited for ballistics results.

"Hey Abby. Waiting for Gibbs. He's still not back from visiting Tony."

"What? He's been gone… hours! That's so not like Gibbs! He avoids hospitals religiously, last time he got shot he only stayed for two hours and then snuck out A.M.A!"

"I know, Abs. I came down to see if you'd heard anything. I guess not." McGee turned to leave.

"McGee, wait! This could be serious! It must be serious! Tony needs me! You have to drive me there to see him."

"Uh Abby, didn't the director order you to stay here and process the homicide case?"

Abby let out a frustrated sigh. "Timothy McGee, who are you talking to? I've been working on this for, like, 5 hours! And now I still have another," She paused to look at the dial on the machine behind her. "2 hours and 35 minutes minimum before I get any more results to analyze. I have nothing to do, you have nothing to do, so no excuses. Get your butt in that car. We're going to see Tony!"

McGee knew all too well from past experiences that there was no point in arguing with Abby when she was like this. She was stubborn, resolute. They were going to the hospital.

OOOOO

As McGee and Abby drove to the hospital, Ziva waited in interrogation, staring through the glass at Zeke Lawell. He was guilty, she didn't need her years of experience as a Mossad interrogator to tell her that. The way he stared through the mirror, his beady eyes cutting through the glass as if he could see her there. Ziva's cell phone rang.

"David."

"Its Gibbs. I'm gonna stay at the hospital. I want you to go ahead and talk to the suspect, whatever his name was."

"Zeke Lawell. It would be my pleasure." Ziva said with a sly smile, although many thoughts came racing through her head. _Why is Gibbs staying? And he couldn't remember the suspect's name? I've never seen Gibbs forget anything! Oh, except that time when he couldn't turn on his computer. Or change his ringtone. Although that could just be because he is technologically challenged, not forgetful. _

"I don't care what you do to him," Gibbs said, his voice breaking through her random thoughts. Ziva's smile widened. "As long as its legal in America. I don't want this scumbag slipping through any red-tape loopholes." Ziva's smile faded a little. Trust Gibbs to spoil her fun.

"Will do, Gibbs."

He hung up.

"And goodbye to you too," Ziva said to the dead line, tossing the phone down on the table and turning her attention to Zeke Lawell. She licked her lips. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Only 1 chapter to go!!! Thanks for the wonderful reviews, please keep 'em coming :P Final chapter will be up soon. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The doctor frowned, looking over a sheet of white paper a nurse had just handed him. Adjusting his glasses a little, he continued to examine the paper.

"What's the prognosis, Doc?" Tony asked from the bed where he lay. The doctors had upped his medication, which had stopped him from vomiting, but he now had a new IV sticking out of his hand. He scratched at it absently. Gibbs swatted his hand away gently from where he stood beside the bed. Ducky sat on the other side of the bed.

The doctor looked up from the paper at Tony's words.

"Well, Agent DiNozzo, as far as bad news goes, you could do a lot worse."

"So what you're saying is, the good news is that the bad news is good news in terms of bad news?" Tony said, a cheeky grin on his pale face.

Gibbs swatted him again, this time on the head.

"Please continue, Doctor." Ducky said.

"Well, the results of the tests show that the damage to your kidneys, whilst evident, is minimal. This particular strain of virus had a shorter incubation period, so the virus was already attacking your kidneys before we started the dialysis. We did stop it, however the damage was enough, to cause the continual vomiting you've experienced. However from my experience, that will not be a permanent side-effect. The vomiting should decrease considerably over the next 3 or so days as you recover, and should cease altogether within a week."

The relief was palpable on the faces of Gibbs, Tony and Ducky.

"The medication, of course, will help you considerably, but you must remember that it cannot prevent the nausea completely."

"I can live with it for a week, I guess." Tony said, glad to hear he wasn't dying. For a while there he hadn't been so sure.

"Agent DiNozzo, you will, however, have to make certain adjustment to your daily lifestyle to prevent any further damage. In particular, we will have to work on the dietary aspects."

Abby rushed ahead of McGee down the white hospital hallway in a rush to see her best friend. She stumbled in the doorway, tripping over her chunky boots in time to see a look of pure horror dawning on Tony's face.

"Ohmygod Tony, what's wrong?" Abby threw herself next to her friend on the bed, hugging him tightly.

The doctor continued. "I think that in light of the situation, we should err on the side of caution. No more fried food, no more take-away, especially pizza. Limit the alcohol, so no more big nights out. Lots of protein, fibre and fresh fruit and vegetables."

Tony's jaw fell open. Wide open.

"You heard the man, DiNozzo." Gibbs said.

"But….pizza…..beer…..Gibbs!" Tony said, tilting his head at his boss, a pleading note in his voice.

Gibbs smirked. "Tony, you will do as the doctor says." He tapped him on the back of the head again.

Tony felt very glad at that moment that he had no desire to even look at food, let alone eat.

"Rather starve…." He muttered grumpily under his breath.

Abby hugged him again, feeling his pain. Tony without pizza was like….Abby without Caff-Pow. She gasped at this mental revelation, hugging him tighter.

"And when do you think Anthony can be released?" Ducky enquired from his chair, scanning over the test results the doctor had handed him.

"I'd like to keep him another night for observation and also to make sure we keep his fluid intake high. After that, I see no reason why he can't go home tomorrow."

"Boss, I can go now. I feel fine." Tony said, sitting up as if to leave.

Gibbs held his finger out firmly, pointing at Tony.

"Do not move, DiNozzo. Remember what happened last time you said that?"

Tony pouted at him.

"Abby, you can stay if you want. McGee, we should probably get back before our suspect dies of a Ziva-induced heart attack."

With that, Gibbs was gone. McGee jumped up, running after him.

OOOOO

"Okay, okay, I'll talk to you! Just stop… stop doing that!" Zeke Lawell exclaimed nervously. Sweat poured from his body even in the cold interrogation room. Ziva sat opposite him, filing her nails with a very large, very sharp knife. Zeke swore he could see traces of dried blood on the blade of the knife.

With a smile, Ziva put the knife back on her belt.

"Go on."

"I…I… I killed Rachel. And the guy with the parrot tattoo."

"Don't stop there. You missed a couple."

Zeke swallowed. He hadn't realized they knew about Maine too.

"And I killed two people back in Maine."

"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" Ziva leaned back on the chair with a smirk.

"Why?" She said, her voice curt and strong.

"They- they deserved it! They deserved to die!" Zeke was no longer sweaty. "I gave them another shot at life! Another chance. And they just threw it away. Though I wouldn't notice them. They came to me because they wanted to be clean. And I offered myself to them. I gave up my time to help them. Ungrateful bastards, every one of them." Zeke snarled, his face twisted with disgust and anger.

"You killed them because they relapsed?" Ziva said, slightly in disbelief.

"Yes!" Zeke replied, as if it was obvious. "They were weak, they had no respect for life."

"And Nathan Jones? The one with the tattoo?"

"He was even worse than them! Lowest of the low. He deserves to rot in hell!"

"Well that is debatable, Mr Lawell. So a couple of your group members fell off the wagon and you punished them by injecting them with a virus?"

Lawell nodded eagerly. "That was genius. The virus was altered to react with the drugs in their systems. In anyone else, it would just appear to be a cold. But it causes the most painful death imaginable if you are using."

_Or if you have a compromised immune system and damaged lungs_, Ziva thought with Tony in mind.

Lawell grinned smugly. "People underestimate priests. I can do more than they realize."

"Evidently," Ziva said, swinging herself out of the chair and putting the handcuffs back on Lawell. She snapped them on extra-tight.

"Ow!" He said, trying to rub his wrists.

"Zeke Lawell, you are under arrest for the premeditated murders of Rachel Huntsman, Nathan Jones, Amanda Berry and Michael Ollivander. You're going away for a long time."

With that, Ziva exited the interrogation room, letting the door slam loudly behind her.

OOOOO

_The next day_

The sedan pulled up in front of the apartment block with a screech. Gibbs got out of the driver's seat, walking around to open the passenger door for Tony, who climbed out looking a little dazed.

"I tell ya, boss. It's lucky they drugged me up with this medication or your car would be really messy right now."

"Come on, DiNozzo. You gonna stand outside in the cold all day?"

"No boss," Tony said, following Gibbs inside.

Upstairs, Gibbs sat Tony down on the sofa, pulling the bottles of pills out of the bag the hospital had given him.

"Two of the pink ones every two hours, one of the blue ones every four hours and two of the white ones every six hours. Don't forget, DiNozzo."

"I won't Gibbs. Ducky's already been through this, Abby's already explained the exact chemical composition of every pill, Ziva threatened to cut of my….Ziva threatened me if I don't take them and McGee's programmed my watch to beep when I need to take the pills. I think I got it covered."

Gibbs hid a smile, impressed at his team's efficiency and consideration for the young man sitting before him.

"Let me add my threat to that of Ziva's. You will take your medicine, no excuses. You will stay in this apartment for the rest of the week. You will not leave, you hear me, DiNozzo. And don't even think about coming into work. I don't care how you feel, I don't want you throwing up in my office and I sure as hell don't want you infecting the rest of the building. I don't care what the doctors say, you're non-infectious. With you're luck, we'll all catch it. So no, you may not leave however many times you ask. "

Tony chuckled a little, noting in particular the affection that was stronger than usual in his boss's voice. As always, Gibbs had anticipated any possible arguments, leaving no loopholes for him to get out of staying at home. Gibbs knew it drove him crazy.

"Don't pout DiNozzo. Watch a DVD or something."

The door swung open and Gibbs reached for his gun instinctively. He relaxed when he saw it was only Abby, bearing two large paper bags. Tony grimaced a little when he noticed the head of lettuce sticking out of the tope of one bag.

"Hey Tony, hey Gibbs. I come bearing gifts."

Abby set the bags down on the kitchen bench, unpacking them swiftly. Tony wrinkled his nose at the bananas, apples, oranges, grapes, potatoes, lettuce, squash, zucchini, capsicum, wholemeal bread and low-fat milk she lined up on the counter.

"Where's the Oreo's Abs?"

"Very funny, Tony." Abby opened the fridge. "Eww Tony, don't you have anything in your fridge apart from Chinese food, beer and stale pizza?"

"There's pizza in my fridge?"

"Not anymore." The lid of the rubbish bin swung and all too quickly, the fridge was re-stocked with healthy food.

"Don't complain, DiNozzo." Gibbs stood up, satisfied his senior field agent was in good hands.

"Hey boss, don't you wanna stay, watch a movie with us? I was thinking Die Hard, the original and best action movie. Launched Bruce Willis' film career, not to mention Alan Rickman. And you know, they filmed it on top of the-"

The door swung. Gibbs was gone.

"Guess not."

Abby settled down on the couch with her friend, covering him up in a squishy blanket. Suddenly she sat up on the couch, punching him hard in the arm.

"Owww! What was that for?"

"Nearly dying! Scaring me! Making me worry! Making Gibbs worry! Don't ever do it again, Tony, I'm serious."

"Okay Abby. I promise I will not be infected by a genetically-altered super virus."

"Good. I think twice is enough." Abby said, rubbing his arm where she'd punched it.

Tony smiled, picking up the remote.

"Die Hard?"

"Bring it on." Abby said, wrapping her arms around him again. She didn't plan on letting go any time soon.

****

**_The End_**

* * *

Thanks to everyone who reviewed or read my story - I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it :) 

Super-em


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